


The Taste of Freedom

by Sithisis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 03:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8473369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sithisis/pseuds/Sithisis
Summary: Freedom is his heart soaring as he gazes out his barred windows and sees a flying blue car heading his way. Freedom is the wind rushing through his hair as he steals a glance at brilliant blue eyes and wild red hair. Freedom is disagreement and arguments and challenges and the laughs at all the silliness that inevitably happens afterwards. Freedom was Ron Weasley, and Harry wished he had realized it before it was much too late.





	

When they first met, it was at the Hogwarts Express. They shared sweets and drinks together, courtesy of the snack trolley going up and down the aisle. They talked about their circumstances and shared a kind of deep understanding, then. An understanding of poverty in different forms, and they became fast friends.

Ron stuffed his faced with Chocolate Frogs and mused at the different cards about witches and wizards that day, too. Harry listened on about bloodlines and alliances and grudges that went centuries back, even though he didn’t quite understand everything.

It was freedom, in a sense. Freedom from any expectations to understand something that he wouldn’t understand anyway, having been under a cupboard under the stairs on 4 Privet Drive all his life.

He was glad to have a friend with whom to quiz and talk about everything and nothing.

 

* * *

 

 

Once, Malfoy told him that all Weasleys were of messy red hair, ugly freckles, and with more children than they can afford.

But when Ron assured Harry that it wasn’t his fault at all that Snape kept giving him a hard time, Harry thought that the red colours of Gryffindor pale in comparison to Ron’s red hair and that the freckles that supposedly marred his face were actually like thousands of stars spilling across the cold, dark, and vast sky.

Ron was a visage of freedom in an otherwise confusing and always expanding universe.

 

* * *

 

 

Malfoy always seemed to know what was up, and he proved it and gloated afterwards with a smirk that only Harry knew how to interpret. He baited Harry with a dirty trick to get him in trouble one midnight.

With predictable Gryffindor pride and daring and foolishness, Harry took that bait. But what he didn’t predict was Ron swearing to duel by his side.

Even when McGonagall looked at them in that no-nonsense way and demanded answers, Ron was still by his side. And more. - Ron had his back.

Freedom was being able to fight and grin and _trust_.

 

* * *

 

 

Battling a troll together with Ron and Hermione started an inseparable friendship. How could it not? With Hermione, ever responsible and the goodie-two-shoes taking all the blame and saving Ron and him.

With Ron’s infectious happiness that made Harry grin from ear to ear so freely.

 

* * *

 

 

Ron was talented in chess. Through one of their conversations, Harry learned that the talent was thanks to his grandfather’s old chess set.

When they were racing to find the Philosopher’s Stone and had to go against McGonagall’s protection spell, it was Ron’s talent that saved Harry’s life.  Harry was blown away by Ron’s sacrifice for the sake of checkmate.

He was blown away by the freedom that Ron granted him so easily.

 

* * *

 

 

Ron, however, was not talented in Quidditch. At first, anyway. He was a nervous wreck before the games, listening to the jeers from the cunning opponents and unforgiving audience members.

Yet Harry urged him on, like how he had urged Harry on whenever any doubt occurred.

It was not always Harry who experienced the freedom of soaring across the sky on a broomstick, but Ron as well.

 

* * *

 

 

Christmas was cozy and filled with lights and laughter and family; something that Harry had never experienced before he met the Weasleys. Before Ron invited him to the Burrow with its complaining garden gnomes and wonky exterior and run-down furniture.

Freedom was experiencing kindness. Of hand-knitted sweaters and piping hot food that piled high on his plate and filled him up and kept him warm all holiday season long.

 

* * *

 

 

Teaming up against Lockhart and saving Ginny was another moment they had together.

Ron was ever so grateful to Harry afterwards, yet was irritated by the lack of credit. He was always the hero’s side-kick and always the last of his siblings and always not good enough in comparison to him and Hermione.

Harry and Ron argued with each other and disagreed with each other and challenged each other so much after that. And when Harry decided to find comfort with the ever-admiring Ginny, it was only met with more arguments and disagreements and challenges.

Yet, despite of everything, Harry and Ron were able to laugh and share mischievous grins at all the silliness later.

The sound of Ron’s laughter, so careless and yet in harmony with his own, is freedom.

 

* * *

 

 

When Ron abandoned the Horcrux hunt, Harry was angry and sad and confused.

When Ron returned just in time to rescue Harry from drowning and losing hope forever, Harry was still angry and sad and confused.

Yet there was another emotion mixed in all the anger and sadness and confusion - a sense of freedom by knowing that Ron would always, in the end, be by his side.

 

* * *

 

Perhaps Harry should have realized it sooner, for when he sees Ginny, ever beautiful, walk down the aisle and the teary Mr. Weasley by her side, he steals a glance at Ron and _realizes_ when he _should have_ realized it sooner:

On that one summer day, when Harry was barred up in his room and any trace of magical items was locked away in the cupboard under the stairs, he looked miserably out the window and the clear blue sky, wishing that someone would just take him away.

Ron surprised him that day with the arrival of his siblings and himself on a flying blue car.

Freedom, to Harry, was his heart soaring as he gazed out his barred windows and saw it.

Freedom was the wind rushing through his hair as he stole a glance at brilliant blue eyes and wild red hair; so thankful for Ron’s gesture, even if Ron didn’t even know it.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to capture the feelings of that last image in writing. I remember reading that scene, also on a warm summer's day with clear blue skies, and it was just brilliant. Thanks for reading.


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